


Racing In The Lights

by loveinamaltshop



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Bottom Connor, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Healthy Communication, M/M, Slut Shaming, Top Evan, Y'all think I'm going to spare this from the angst?, there's a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinamaltshop/pseuds/loveinamaltshop
Summary: This is why it scares him if it just starts to become something Connor likes to do when their parents are out. Just for kicks, the thrill of pushing each other off the edge. The weight low on his belly makes itself known, twice as heavy. He wants to erase all thoughts of lateness, dinners, dirty table linens, uncertainty. He can’t, but can focus on Connor, who has silently placed his arms above his head, wrists crossed over each other.Connor and Evan dance at a precipice.





	Racing In The Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Lana Del Rey's "[Burning Desire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx_dTSPzXlk)". Enjoy!

Evan didn’t usually get mad at tiny things. 

Especially when it came to Connor, he was a lot more considerate. This was his boyfriend of six and a half months. His first kiss, his first real relationship, his first date, his first time, in that order. 

But it was a tiny thing after tiny thing that fell into a messy habit of Connor’s to show up late to their dates. It was kind of pissing Evan off. But of course, he didn’t mind. If he did, he didn’t let it show.

This is why, in Connor’s eyes, Evan didn’t mind when Connor showed up to their dinner, showing up in the same hoodie he saw him in yesterday. He didn’t mind that the candles he’d lit up were already melting, wax spilling on the nice table cloth he’d promised his mom he’d take care of. He  _ definitely _ did not seem mind that Connor let his Italian ice cream cake melt right next to it. 

“So, your mom’s out, huh?” Connor said, voice flat, peering at Evan from under his eyelashes. 

Connor Murphy was fifteen minutes late to their date night, ruined their nicest linen, and expected sex. Evan gritted his teeth. 

“Wait for me upstairs,” Evan managed to say, controlled, but rough enough to elicit a half-smile from Connor “I’ll finish up here.”

If Evan wasn’t as attentive of a boyfriend, he would’ve missed Connor bouncing on his heels. Evan hears Connor’s light and quick footsteps decrescendo to his room. He closes his eyes for a second, fingers tight on the stack of plates. He ignores the buzzing in the pit of his stomach as he sets the plates down onto the sink. He hears the insecurities that have layered throughout the years reshaping themselves to fit his body as he grew up.

Even at seventeen, even with a mom that loved him more than anything, even with friends who would never leave his side, even with  _ Connor, _ it still weighed him down like a stone settled inside him. He blows the candles out. He shakes his thoughts away like an Etch-A-Sketch, remembers to tilt his chin up.

He walks up to his room and gets the sight he really should have expected, but, if he was being honest, never ready for. It’s Connor sprawled on Evan’s bed like he owns it, hair fanning, halo-like, around his head. His hoodie and belt are on the floor already, along with his shoes. He’s already  _ palming  _ himself under the open flaps of his jeans. 

“‘Bout time,” Connor says, only short of a snarl.

This is where Evan’s just about had it. He’s half hard under his own jeans, feeling it twitch at every ragged exhalation of Connor’s unabashed demonstration before him. He chooses not to waste his time, sitting at the side of the bed and running a careful hand over Connor’s hair. He presses a gentle kiss, ignoring Connor’s insistent tongue and the hand balled on his shirt over the small of his back. 

Evan stays quiet, when there’s insistent goading from Connor. He works Connor’s pants off, shucking his boxers down before he tosses them with the rest of Connor’s clothes. His cock is flushed red, matching the coloring on his chest and high on his cheeks. Evan thinks about how Connor never blushes and it’s only ever when they’re doing this.

“On your hands and knees,” Evan commands, thanking every god in heaven he didn’t stammer or hesitate this time. It pays off, with Connor’s interested, glassy eyes contrasting the rare wide grins he has. 

Evan almost laughs when Connor falls on his hands and knees on the mattress, facing the end of the headboard. He’s already expecting it. 

“You’re such a slut,” Evan is saying before it’s even a complete thought. 

There’s a delicious shiver that runs through Connor’s body like a live wire. Evan feels his own skin burn. He knows the word is not usually thrown in when they’re in situations like this. Often it’s heated and mumbled encouragement, but it’s silently agreed this,  _ this,  _ is so much better. 

Evan seems to take too long because Connor’s reaching down to stroke himself. He notices the dark stain of pre-come that’s leaked on his sheets. Whatever’s winding him tighter and tighter is unrelenting. 

“Do something,” Connor breathes out because Evan’s still a foot away from him at the edge of the bed. He looks over his shoulder, hooded eyes dark, all teenage boy lust and adoration “I’ve been waiting all day.”

“Be quiet, unless you’re spoken to” Evan says levelly. His hand reaches over to the nightstand to get a bottle of lube, the outside covered in a sticky film from their previous uses of it “I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

The heat in Connor’s eyes is in no way doused but replaced with something Evan’s only witnessed when Connor’s on his back, on his knees, over the couch--compliance. He’s still looking over his shoulder, lips parted to make way for heavy breaths, and he’s watching Evan coat his fingers with lube. 

“I think you’re getting needy,” Evan points out matter-of-factly, persona settling in the ridges of his demeanor “You never used to be so desperate.”

Connor only looks at him with pleading eyes, still looking up from his lashes, still wetting the petal pink of his bottom lip. 

“Are you?” Evan turns to actually meet his eye, narrowing as he watches Connor grow uneasy under his gaze “You can answer.”

_ “Yes.” _

“You’re not just saying that?” Evan says as he’s reaching behind to press the pad of his fingertip against Connor’s hole “Because you want me here?””

“N-No,” Connor presses back, which Evan expects. He pushes a finger in easily, watching Connor’s face. His eyes fall to a close, and Evan knows he’s won. 

“Tell me what you need,” Evan says, softer this time. Coaxing him with his words like honey, sickly sweet and slow. Connor’s pushing back insistently, fucking himself on the single digit. “I want to know what you want from me. What I can give you.”

“More fingers, sir,” comes automatically from Connor’s mouth, slightly stilted but loud and clear from his wet mouth, where he’d been licking excessively, a habit that he has in and outside the bedroom. Evan makes sure Connor doesn’t see him swallow. It is hardly the first time he’s said it, and Evan loves it because Connor always says it like he’s meant to.

“You’re a pushy little slut,” Evan observes but he adds another finger in, twisting his wrist. Connor moans, head tipped down now. “I thought you promised to be good for me? Can’t even say please.”

The nail of his third finger drags against the skin of Connor’s cheek, a wordless promise Evan plans on keeping. Connor is just pliant under his hands, and Evan feels himself harden at the quiver of Connor’s thighs as he starts pumping his fingers in and out, at the dirty noise the lube and Connor’s hole makes. He resists the urge to press the heel of his hand against his crotch, because he knows what kind of satisfaction it could give Connor if he lost control.

Evan refuses to lose control. He curls his fingers inside Connor, bumping where Connor wants him once. It makes his whole body shake, lowering him to his elbows. Evan’s fingers still. There’s a petulant growl that comes from Connor. He freezes as soon as it comes out of his mouth, looking over his shoulder. It’s feigned innocence. He’s practically pouting and if Evan were a lesser person, he would’ve fallen right for it, still would’ve given Connor just what he wanted.

“You need to shut up,” Evan says flatly, overlooking the fact that Connor’s broken rules already. He’s pulling his fingers out, causing Connor to gasp. Evan turns him over onto his back, and has a hand press a shoulder. The other reaches down again to the slick opening, the same two fingers fucking into Connor again, stretching him further.

They’re face to face now. Connor’s breathing sharply through his nose. His lips are pressed together in a thin line. His eyes close intermittently every time Evan turns his wrist or speeds up. He’s so quiet, so good. His shoulders rock up and down in time with Evan’s movements, wordlessly agreeing to let him fuck himself on his fingers. Evan almost smiles at this. 

“Open your mouth,” Evan whispers. Connor does and Evan leans over, kissing him how he knows Connor likes to be kissed. It’s soft tongue and teeth scraping liberally at his bottom lip. Connor only barely kisses back, keeping his mouth open like it’s simply a vessel for Evan to use. The thought makes Evan’s cock twitch but his mind wanders solely at how good Connor is, how much he trusts Evan. He knows what they do is more than enough to make Jared Kleinman eat his words and possibly even blush. 

It’s their thing, something they’ve learned to do together. Evan has never trusted Connor more than the little moments he’s letting him push the other to their limit, egging him on and he knows, in the light of Connor’s eyes, the tired of his smile when he’s running a wash cloth over the tender places, that Connor does too. 

This is why it scares him if it just starts to become something Connor likes to do when their parents are out. Just for kicks, the thrill of pushing each other off the edge. The weight low on his belly makes itself known, twice as heavy. He wants to erase all thoughts of lateness, dinners, table linens, uncertainty. He can’t, but can focus on Connor, who has silently placed his arms above his head, wrists crossed over each other. He reminds himself when he loses focus, Connor takes the window of opportunity and then, the reins. Evan decides to take over.

“That’s a good boy,” Evan rasps “You should know your place.”

The hand on Connor’s shoulder moves up to hold both wrists in place as he lets his mouth slide down Connor’s jaw wetly. He places a bruise low on his neck; it’s low enough to be hidden by his hoodie but high enough for Evan to catch if he’s being careless. His fingers scissor deeper into Connor, stretching him. Connor’s been groaning wantonly and Evan hasn’t noticed at all. 

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Evan growls out, and takes delight in Connor’s near-exasperated look.

“P-Please,” Connor says, unprompted “I just want to show you how good you are to me.”

There’s a flash of earnestness in his face, practically pleading. Evan lets himself give in. 

“Fine,” Evan murmurs, pressing a single soft kiss against the bruise he’s formed on Connor’s skin, before gently licking at the bite marks “I’m going to tie you up now, is that okay?”

Connor responds with a frantic nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Evan pulls out of Connor, fingers unconsciously wiping themselves onto the sheets. “Don’t move.”

He reaches over to his nightstand to pull out a single tie. It was Evan’s during homecoming, a generic departments store powder blue. Evan reaches over Connor’s wrist and loops it around his wrist once, twice, thrice before he knots the ends secure. He kisses Connor as many times as he’d wound the fabric. His heart glows at the sweet smile he’s rewarded with. Maybe it was in his head, maybe he  _ was  _ overthinking. Maybe.

“Are you going to fuck me, sir?” 

The words are light when they roll off Connor’s tongue, playful even. Evan’s teeth have to catch his bottom lip first, wanting to smile. He wants to untie Connor, fuck him, quick and clumsy like the teenagers they are, and fall asleep in his arms. But he knows both their reasons for doing this, especially tonight. Especially since tonight, Evan feels like between the both of them, he needs it more. 

“Is that what you want?” Evan asks “You want me to fuck you already?” One hand presses over the bruise on Connor’s neck, a reminder and a warning.

“Yes, sir. Please.” Connor shifts, hips twisting onto one side. Evan can see how his arms strain under the restraint, turning him on more than it should. His lip is wet and bitten red from where Evan’s scarcely kissed him tonight. 

Evan reached into his nightstand, pulling out a condom from under several inoffensive items. Connor watches him, and interested and hungry-eyed. Evan undoes his pants, lowering his boxers and pulling out his cock. He strokes himself slowly, eyes taking Connor in hungrily with one languid sweep. He rips the condom open, fingers slightly shaky as he rolls the latex onto himself, fumbling a bit at the first try, as he usually does but if Connor notices, he doesn’t say anything. He spreads lube over himself, messy and too much as he finds his way between Connor’s legs. 

Connor is smiling brightly up at him, but his eyes are still dark and heated, more heated coals than anything else by now. Evan’s chest aches so he leans over Connor’s body, hands on either side of his head, his clothed form over Connor’s completely bare skin. Connor shivers at the sensation before his mouth is open against Evan’s, who bends Connor’s legs at the knee before he pushes into the tight ring of muscle. 

“Fuck,” Connor says, whining “More, sir.”

Evan growls, into his mouth, biting harshly at Connor’s mouth. The weight in his chest condenses to something red-hot and urgent instead. “Beg,” he demands, pushing the entirety of his length in “Prove you’re good for me, huh?”

Something flashes in Connor’s eyes, and neither of them could probably identify what it was, something reminiscent of passing headlights. Connor complies, however, fingers wrapping around the wooden post of the headboard above him, like he would in all the times they’ve done this.  

“Please,” Connor gasps when Evan pulls out agonisingly slow before pushing himself back in “Fuck me, sir. I want you to fuck me hard. I want it so bad, I’ll be so good for you. Just please fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Evan says in a bored voice that surprises the both of them. Evan keeps his face still, nonchalant, amidst the soft panting noises leaving his parted lips. “Tell me what you are.”

Connor moans in response. Evan pulls out and fucks into him again, the pads of his fingers over the skin and bone of his collarbone. “Yours.”

Evan’s eyes go soft, not stopping himself when he’s finally thrusting in and out of Connor at a steady rhythm—he kisses Connor with a smile. He feels Connor smile back. “That’s right. All mine?” 

“All yours, sir.” Connor breathes as he lifts his hips. This prompts Evan to bend at the knee, grabbing at Connor’s ass to thrust faster now. 

“You’re so good for me like this.” Evan’s hips are at a staccato, more  _ boy _ now. Electric teenage lust replaces the blood in his veins and the thoughts in his head. The visceral part of him grows greedier, clawing at any skin he can reach. 

He can see Connor wince and strain because Evan usually props him up with a pillow, but they’ve both decided it’s too late and their bodies are too heated and have gravitated towards each other to do much else. 

“Just for you,” Connor purrs, a lopsided grin on his face, and he’s slipping out of character. It makes Evan snap his hips just a little bit harder and it makes Connor’s eyes shut and roll his hips the way Evan’s never really told him he enjoys but Connor just  _ knows. _

“You’re such a little whore,” Evan grits out, as he’s angling his hips because he knows Connor too, and he’s met with a moan, shameless and slack-jawed. He keeps fucking Connor, more desperate now, one hand falling on top of his stomach to keep his balance. “You want it so bad, look at you. Taking my cock so well.” 

“Evan—”

“What was that?” 

“Sir,” Connor says, edging close to petulant “I’m so close. Let me come,  _ please.”  _

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” Evan whispers, cocking his head, a hand ghosting over the vein on the side of Connor’s cock. “You’re getting off to just me inside you?”

“Yes,” Connor cries out. His shoulders are twisting, as if to prove a point. Evan moves his hand over to one of them, pinning him down. 

“Alright,” Evan breathes as he looms over Connor, angling his hips one more time and fucking into his ass before he grasps Connor’s dick, heavy on his hand, slick with precome. 

He pumps Connor once, twice and fucks him faster as he does. Connor comes, mind seemingly blank other than to shout and tighten around Evan. He spills over Evan’s hand and his own stomach, softening under Evan’s grip. 

Evan finds himself moaning low at the sensations, fucking into Connor, his balls tightening and his grip almost dangerous where they are on Connor’s thighs. He thinks about the bruises they’ll leave, one that’ll match the one on his neck and he spills inside of Connor. Connor is  _ his.  _ He shudders and pulls out, fingers rolling off the condom and tying it off. Connor laughs at him when it doesn’t reach the trash can. 

“Let me clean you up,” Evan says softly instead of glaring. His clothes feel too gross, because he’s sweat through his shirt and definitely the back of the knees of his jeans. He changes into a pair of pajama pants and a worn phys ed shirt, before walking to his bathroom.

He comes back from the bathroom with a warm washcloth and clothes for Connor. He walks over to Connor, the sight of him tied up definitely still objectively hot, but a little funny now. He laughs to himself, some belated nervousness slipping out, much to Connor’s confusion. 

“What?” Connor says, amused and maybe just a tinge of defensive. 

“Nothing,” is what Evan settles with, because there’s a trickle of thoughts in his head now, more ticking time bomb than sand in the hourglass. He runs the cloth over Connor’s stomach, earning him a satisfied hum. “Are—um, don’t get mad. Are we okay?”

Connor quirks an eyebrow. “I don’t know why you’re asking me not to get mad while I’m still literally tied up.”

“I’m serious,” Evan says softly as he wipes around Connor’s crotch. He’s gentle when he cleans up the lube around Connor’s hole. He puts away the cloth and unties Connor, sitting back on his heels. 

Connor runs at his wrists, winces once (“I’m sorry.” “For the thousandth time, I don’t mind it.”) before he tugs at Evan’s own to pull himself up. He winces again when he has to sit and slip on the boxers and sweatshirt Evan gives him. 

Connor holds either side of Evan’s face and kisses him slowly. Evan’s eyebrows furrow at the thought that Connor’s picked something up, that something is wrong. This is how he’s going to say goodbye—sweetly and putting him down too gently because he knows Evan too well now. Because he’s so bored of Evan, because he’s tired of having a boyfriend who can’t ask for the bill during dates, because Evan stutters during sex, because—

“I can hear you thinking, Ev,” Connor murmurs, smiling in a way that’s colored both nervous and fond. 

There’s a not too intelligent moment that Evan looks horrified because there was no way he was dating a telepath and he didn’t know about it. This thought crosses, but Connor doesn’t react so he’s relieved, at least. 

“Are we okay?” Evan repeats. He swallows, throwing back any nervousness and at the second they left, he wishes for his words too. 

“Of course we’re okay,” Connor says, a little defensive, hands dropping from Evan’s face, before his bare shoulders lower. He thinks for a second, pulling his knees to his chest, elbows propped on knees. “Uh. Unless something’s up?”

Evan is silent for a moment before wordlessly, he sits back on his headboard and tugs Connor to lie between his legs. Connor falls into a position, head on his thigh, something that’s already too familiar between both of them. Evan watches him tug his sheets over his body, over Evan’s own clothed legs. Connor looks up and buries himself against the soft flannel of Evan’s pajamas. Against the hard lines of his face and the wear deeply set in his eyes, Connor actually looks his age. “There is,” Evan admits once he has a hand threading through Connor’s hair, fingers undoing the knots he finds gently. 

Connor breathes out. “Figured,” he mumbles. There’s a roughness that will never be buffed away from Connor. Evan has long decided he’s more grateful for it, tired of anyone who’s ever danced around him or threw the eggshells on the ground before he could say anything. But Evan isn’t naive. Connor isn’t perfect. Connor doesn’t walk on eggshells but there are days he steps on them, heel to toe, without meaning to. 

“Tell me if it’s all in my head,” Evan begins, looking straight at the wall across from him. “You were able to tell me before.”

“Okay,” Connor whispers against the palm that’s against his cheek now. “Tell me first, then.”

“I, uh,” Evan clears his throat, blinking once. These kinds of things never get easier with time. “Are you bored?”

Connor shifts to turn to look at him but Evan doesn’t see. He’s still staring, trying to will the silence to go away.  _ “What?” _

“Are you bored?” Evan’s voice is clearer now, voice too quick that Connor almost doesn’t catch it “Because you can tell me if you are. Of this relationship or me, you know. If-If you’re just here for the sex or whatever, I don’t think I can deal with that.” He catches his breath, eyes shutting before the back of his head meets the top of the headboard “I just actually love you. And I want to, um, keep you. But sometimes I feel like you’re not all in like I am. Like. Like, tonight at dinner? You were late even though when I go to your place, I’m always on time or when you tell me to meet at your car?” He wets his lips, pausing as he looks at Connor again “And it’s not about being late! None of this is about being late, what am I saying? I mean, part of it is, I guess.”

He looks over at Connor, who nods at him. His face is blank.

“And. Well. It’s not cool, okay? It’s not cool.” Evan runs a hand over his face tiredly, biting at his lips “I know we’ve been dating for a while but I don’t want you to treat me like this.” His voice cracks and he wants the world to swallow him whole “Like you’re...half-assing me. I don’t want to be, you know.”

“Half-assed?” Connor says in a tone way too serious that Evan has,  _ has  _ to laugh. It sounds ridiculous and he’s all nerves and no skin right now, too exposed and he has to revert things back to normal. Connor doesn’t join him when he laughs. He sits up instead, wincing again, right across Evan and suddenly there’s no wall to look at, just two different colored irises and an unreadable look.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Connor considers his words for a second. “I don’t want to make you feel like anything less than what I feel for you,” he says, slipping his palms against Evan’s “And I’ve been doing that.” 

“Yeah,” Evan murmurs, making Connor nod solemnly. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor offers and Evan notices there isn’t a twitch in his face when he says it. 

A couple of months or so, he would’ve seen it, clear as day on his face. He’ll never understand why it seemed to almost physically hurt Connor to say those words but then again, he doesn’t expect Connor to get why it would hurt Evan too much if he  _ didn’t  _ say it. He realizes he hasn’t said it, even in the middle of his spiel, not after. He doesn’t get enough time to relish in this victory all that much when Connor starts speaking again.

“You deserve so much better from me,” Connor says to their joined hands “And uh, I hope you know I’m not just saying this to let me off the hook.”

Evan opens his mouth. He takes a page from Connor’s book and hits him with a “You don’t know what to say.”

Connor shrugs. “I know what I feel for you,” he admits “And you just have to believe me if I tell you I’m going to do better.” He glances at Evan once, staring now “I’m learning. I promise I’m learning.”

“I am too,” Evan replies softly, smiling. Thumbs brush over his knuckles and he feels almost okay. The turbulence inside him never leaves, never passes the eternal ring of fire, and  _ okay _ will always be a relative term. He knows Connor has never been the last ounce of jet fuel that’ll get him past it. 

“I know, but this isn’t about you,” Connor says teasingly and a smile tugs at Evan’s face. Connor smiles back at him, an unabashed toothy grin. “I am so far from getting bored of you. Your mom still needs to like me first.”

“My mom likes you!” Evan protests, amused and disbelieving eyes “She just wants you to cut your hair.”

“People have disliked people for less,” Connor points out. Evan smiles.

“She likes you. And I love you,” Evan insists, leaning over to kiss the skin right under Connor’s cheekbone “You’re really not bored?” 

“I’m not bored,” Connor says carefully, staring back at Evan “I’m an asshole who’s been slacking off, though. Don’t fight me on this.”

Evan shrugs again, a single shoulder this time.

“I love you,”

“I love you too,” Evan means it. He knows, because his heart still overflows, spills over the sides when he says it. 

Connor presses his forehead against Evan’s neck. He peppers kisses over the skin he can reach and settles there, arms around his waist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way.”

A protest forms around Evan’s lips, to negate his statement.  _ It wasn’t Connor’s fault, he was overthinking, he was stupid, he never should’ve said anything. _

“I trust you,” Evan says, on his sea legs. 

He’s never left much trust out for just anyone, he wonders if Connor knows this and even questions if he’s ever used the word right. He knows Connor can hear his heartbeat and, in a foxhole in Evan’s mind, he thinks Connor might be able to find what kind of truth Evan’s statement holds. 

He knows they’re both going to try and that’s enough for tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day! Feel free to drop by my Tumblr, @[loveinamaltshop](https://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com/), as well.


End file.
